


i will work, i will give thanks

by thewalrus_said



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 03:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10527519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewalrus_said/pseuds/thewalrus_said
Summary: Yuuri skips the Sochi banquet. Minako tries her hand at coaching. Victor stays in Russia (at first, anyway).Or: The pining pen pals AU no one asked for.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Google Docs tells me I've only been working on this since February 23rd, but it feels like it's been a billion trillion years I've been thinking about this AU, and now it's time to let it out into the wild. I hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Beta thanks to [RobinLorin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinLorin), [Nina](http://trautkeinenartigenkindern.tumblr.com/), and [so_shhy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/so_shhy), without whom I never would have had the confidence to post it.

_ December 2015, Sochi _

“Yuuri!” Celestino knocked on the door again, louder this time. “It’s almost time to go!”

Yuuri sighed, rolled off the uncomfortable hotel bed, and went to open the door.

“You’re not dressed!” Celestino was wearing his usual suit, hair slicked back. Yuuri could smell the cologne he only brought out for special occasions. “You can’t wear sweats to the banquet.”

“I’m not going to the banquet.” Yuuri dropped his eyes to the carpet, fingers twisting together behind his back. “I’m not feeling well.”

“Yuuri.” Celestino’s voice was kind, and he put a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri met his eyes again. “It isn’t good to dwell. And besides, you’ve done remarkably this season. I’ve been very impressed with you.”

Yuuri’s stomach sank and he looked down again. “I know. Just - please don’t make me go. Not tonight.” Victor would be there, he knew, and the Russian Yuri - he couldn’t face them, not on top of everything else.

After a beat, Celestino sighed, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulder. “Alright. I’ll make your excuses. But on one condition.” Yuuri looked back up. “Call Phichit.”

Yuuri managed a weak smile, and nodded. Celestino released him and made his way down the hall towards the elevator. Yuuri shut the door and crawled back into bed.

He lay there for nearly half an hour before rolling to pick his earbuds and phone up off the floor. Phichit answered on the fourth ring, his face filling Yuuri’s screen. “Hey, brother,” he said. Yuuri couldn’t help a rush of relief at his tone, which was as bright and cheery as ever, not pitying or concerned. “How are you?”

Yuuri groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m skipping the banquet right now. Celestino would only let me get away with it if I promised to call you.”

Phichit laughed. “By all means. I’ll text him and let him know you did, if you like.”

“Nah. I would have called anyway.” Yuuri shifted onto his side, tucking his arm up under his head. “How’s Detroit?”

“Boring without you.” Phichit shrugged. Behind him, Yuuri could see the familiar bleachers in their home rink. “Anything in particular you want to talk about?”

Yuuri shook his head. “Anything but skating.”

Phichit hummed. “Well, it’s tangentially related to skating, but I watched  _ The King and the Skater _ again last night, and I have some new theories about the cards.”

Yuuri groaned theatrically, making Phichit laugh again.


	2. Chapter 2

_March 2016, Hasetsu_

Yuuri skated to a halt, arms crossed above his head in the now-familiar final pose, breath coming heavy. _I’ve really let myself get out of shape since the Final_ , he thought, panting. _If I’m not careful, my body will make the decision to retire for me_.

Yuuko’s squealing broke him out of his reverie. “That was so cool!” she shouted, waving her hands (and Yuuri’s glasses) as she beamed. “A perfect copy of Victor! I thought you’d be depressed.”

“I was.” Yuuri skated over to her and carefully prised his glasses out of her hand, wiping the fingerprints off and putting them on. “But I got bored. I wanted to get my love of skating back.” It had been awful back in Detroit; every time he stepped on the ice his anxiety ramped up where it once had relaxed, and he’d barely managed to make it through his last round of finals without his usual coping mechanism.

“Did it work?” Yuuko asked, leaning forward onto her elbows. “It looked like it, from where I was.”

“I think so,” Yuuri said, but before he could say more, three small heads popped up from behind the wall, and he was lifted bodily off his feet. “Nishigori!” he yelped, squirming until the other man put him down.

“Heard you were back in town!” Nishigori said, slapping him on the shoulder. “Shoulda known you’d come here on your first day. You’re still welcome any time, you know. The Nishigori family’s got your back.” Yuuko nodded in agreement, eyes still wide.

“Thanks,” Yuuri said, and then three shrill voices were peppering him with questions.

\--

One week later, Yuuri finished his last stretch and dropped his leg from the barre, panting. “Good!” Minako said, clapping her hands together once. “You’ve still got proper form, at least, and that’s all you really needed to keep. I can whip you back into shape in no time.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri gasped, wiping his sweating face on his sleeve and fumbling for his water bottle. Draining half of it, he flopped onto his back and caught his breath. Minako sank down next to him, cross-legged on the mat, and waited. “I wanted to ask you something,” Yuuri said, once he stopped feeling like he was about to die.

“I figured.” Minako leaned back on her arms. “Shoot.”

“Will you be my coach for this next season?”

Yuuri counted to five, staring at the ceiling, and then turned to look at her. Minako was frowning. “I’m honored, Yuuri, but I’ve never coached a figure skater before. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“I don’t need much.” Yuuri pushed himself up into a seated position. “Just choreography, and moral support. And you do that part anyway. I still have a few sponsors who are interested, so you won’t have to pay for anything out of pocket. And I don’t have a lot of savings for a coaching fee, but I can help out around the studio, or the bar, or something else.”

“You’ve thought about this,” Minako noted.

“I couldn’t think of anyone better suited,” Yuuri said, honestly. He’d been racking his brain ever since skating for Yuuko, and this was the only way he could think of to go on with his career. “I’m not ready to retire just yet.”

Minako smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. Well, I still don’t think I’m qualified, but I’ll do my best. We’ll get you some shifts at the bar, and maybe you can teach some dance classes. We’ll sort it out.”

Yuuri let out a relieved breath. “Thank you, Minako.” He bowed and stood.

She rose as well. “You know, you’re the second figure skater to ask a favor of me this week.”

Yuuri moved to help her pack up their things and wipe down the barre and mirror. “What do you mean?”

“A Russian coach called me two days ago and asked to send a student to me for some ballet training. Apparently he’s making his senior debut this year, and the ballet instructor his coach wants isn’t available for another few weeks.” Minako laughed. “You two even have the same name.”

Yuuri dropped his rag. “Yuri Plisetsky?”

“That’s the one.” Minako gave him an odd look. “Do you know him?”

“Yuri Plisetsky is coming here?”

“In a week.” Minako picked up the rag with her toes and passed it back to him. “Seriously, do you know him?”

“He’s the Junior Gold Medalist, the past three years running.” _And he caught me crying in a bathroom after the Grand Prix Final_.

“Ah. Well, you know I don’t pay attention to Juniors.” Minako walked to the door and held it open for him. “Maybe you two can train together.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to respond, but before he could explain to her how bad an idea that was, his phone rang. “Yuuri, man, I’m so sorry,” Nishigori said in his ear, sounding almost as panicked as he had when Yuuko told him she was having triplets. “My girls filmed it and put it online, I swear we didn’t know until today. Yuuko made them delete it, but it’s already gone viral.”

“What are you talking about?” Yuuri stopped walking. Minako raised her eyebrow; Yuuri held up a hand.

“You haven’t seen? Oh, man. Hold on, I’ll send it to you. I’m so sorry, Yuuri.” Nishigori hung up, and a moment later texted him a link. _Katsuki Yuuri tries to skate Victor Nikiforov’s award-winning program_ , the headline blared, and the video below it began autoplaying. “Oh no,” Yuuri said, falling back against the wall.

“What is it?” Minako pulled the phone out of his hand. “Oh, _no_. Yuuri, what happened?”

“I skated this for Yuuko, the day I got back.” Yuuri covered his face. “The triplets must have filmed it and put it up.”

“It’s everywhere,” Minako confirmed, tapping his screen. “And you have a billion emails already.”

Yuuri took the phone back and turned it off. “That’s it, I’m retiring. I’m going to live here and work at the hot spring and never put on a pair of skates again.”

“Too late.” Minako looped an arm around his shoulders. “We’ve already struck a deal, your soul is mine. I’m going to get you back to the Grand Prix Final, and you’re gonna show Victor Nikiforov what’s what.”

_Oh god. Victor’s seen this._ Yuuri groaned. Minako laughed at him.

\--

Yuuri kept his phone off for two solid days. Finally, however, he cloistered himself in his room, wrapped his blanket over his head and around his shoulders, and took a deep breath.

The phone began to buzz almost nonstop once he turned it back on, and he shoved it under his pillow until it quieted down, nearly two full minutes later. He opened the texts first; almost thirty from Yuuko alone, and a dozen more from Nishigori. He sent them back notes that he was alive and not angry, and then opened Phichit’s messages.

_You okay, brother? That program was really good, but I know you didn’t put it up as a stunt. You coping alright?_

_Take whatever time you need, but you should know that Ciao Ciao has expelled two people from the DSC for making fun of you, and I punched someone. (My first time! It hurts more than the movies make it seem.) We’re here for you, brother._

_Possibly that last message sounded bad. Really, no one’s making fun of you, just a few jerks who aren’t even good skaters anyway. You’ve got nothing to worry about._

_CALL ME_

_YUURI VICTOR NIKIFOROV ASKED ME FOR YOUR PHONE NUMBER CALL ME NOW_

A call request came through as Yuuri reached the last messages, sent a few hours ago. He slid his thumb across the screen, and Phichit’s face came into view. “There you are!” He looked out of breath, and Yuuri saw a few skaters moving around the rink behind him. “I’ve been calling every fifteen minutes. You doing okay?”

“I’m alright.” Yuuri pulled his knees up to his chest. “Sorry for worrying you. I turned my phone off after I found out.”

“I figured as much.” Phichit gnawed on his lip a moment. “Are you retiring?” he asked. “Because I would understand if you did, but I don’t think you should and I would really miss you on the ice and-”

Yuuri shook his head. “I’m not retiring.” Phichit whooped and pumped his fist in the air. “Minako’s going to coach me. I decided just before I saw the video.”

“Good! Because this is the year, Yuuri. I’m doing _The King and the Skater_ , and I need you with me.”

Yuuri grinned. “I’ll be there!”

Phichit grinned back, and then looked at something off to the side. Yuuri could hear Celestino’s voice in the distance. “Yeah, I’ve got him! He’s fine. Give me a few more minutes.” Phichit turned back to his phone. “Ciao Ciao’s been worried about you too, it’s kind of sweet.” He sobered. “So. Victor Nikiforov sent me a message on Instagram asking for your phone number.”

Yuuri gulped. “Did he say why?”

Phichit shook his head. “Just said he wanted to talk to you. And he’s not going to yell at you, I made him promise before I said I’d ask you. What do you want me to do?”

It was Yuuri’s turn to bite his lip. There was no way he could handle speaking to Victor over the phone, he decided. “Can you just give him my email?”

“Sure! Public or private?”

“Ugh. Private. It’s going to take me ages to get through my public email.” Yuuri wrinkled his nose at the thought.

“Will do. I’ll send that off as soon as we hang up.” Phichit turned again, and then looked back at Yuuri. “Which has to be now, I think, Ciao Ciao’s waving me over. Let me know what happens, or if you need anything!”

“Wàd-dee kráb.”

Phichit grinned and hung up. Yuuri looked at his phone for a moment, then shoved it back under his pillow and went to help Mari with the shoveling. There was one new email notification when he got back.

Thankfully, Minako was taking inventory at the bar, and she didn’t say anything when he came in and tucked himself into a corner table, knees to his chest. Yuuri took a few deep breaths and opened the email.

_Not bad. Not bad at all. Your unexpectedly fierce friend made me swear I wasn’t angry before he’d give me your email address, and I lied to him, I’m afraid - your presentation components were better than mine. That irks me as much as it impresses me._

_Rumor has it you’re retiring. Is it true?_

_-V_

Yuuri blinked at the screen, nonplussed, and opened up a reply while he was still confused enough not to be anxious.

_I’m not retiring._

_I won’t tell Phichit you lied to him._

_-Katsuki Yuuri_

He sent it before he could think better of it, spent thirty seconds kicking himself for its terseness, and then stood up. “Everything okay?” Minako asked.

“Victor Nikiforov emailed me.”

“What?”

“He said my components were better than his.” Yuuri reached for the bowl of chips next to her laptop on the counter; she slapped his hand away. “And he asked if I was retiring.”

“Let me see.” He passed her his phone. “Huh,” she said after a moment and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Senpai noticed you.” He frowned at her, and she laughed. “And your components _are_ better than his. Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you - do you have any ideas for your music? I know you always let your coach pick before.”

“Not really.” Yuuri made another play for the bowl, and she slid it down the counter away from him. “I tried picking music once, but Celestino hated it, and it wasn’t important to me anyway.”

This was not entirely true, and Minako could probably see it on his face, because she furrowed her brow and said, “Well, let’s make a deal, then. I’ll pick your short program, you pick your free skate. I’m not going to do all the work for you.”

“Is it too late to change my mind?”

“Yes.” Minako jerked her head back towards the kitchen. “Now, there’s some sort of sports game on in half an hour, which means this place is going to get packed. If you’re staying, make yourself useful and start hauling some drinks out here.”


	3. Chapter 3

_April 2016, Hasetsu_

Yuri Plisetsky arrived in a storm of ill temper and clashing cat patterns, and was followed by more preteen girls than Yuuri had ever seen in one place. He was staying at Yu-topia on Minako’s suggestion, and Yuuri’s first indication that he arrived was a loud slam waking him up at eight in the morning.

Yuri was halfway through a plate of eggs and toast when Yuuri stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. “Oh, hello,” Yuuri said, taking the protein shake his father held out to him.

Yuri started, dropping his fork. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I live here.” Yuuri pinched his nose and drained the shake, grimacing. “You’re training under my coach.”

“Minako Okukawa is your coach?” Yuri sneered. “What’s she doing with a crybaby like you?”

Yuuri’s mother look over at them, brow furrowed, but Yuuri was too groggy to take offense. “She’s coaching me. I said that already. She should be here soon. I’m going for a run.” He passed the glass back to his father. “That’s awful, by the way.”

“I’ll tweak the recipe. Bring some gluten-free flour home, we have a guest coming next month who needs it and I want to start experimenting.”

Yuuri came home with a bag of gluten-free flour in his arms two hours later and was almost run over by Yuri, stomping out the front door with a snarl. “What’s his problem?” Yuuri asked Minako, who was standing in the dining room, red-faced.

“He’s a rude little brat, is his problem,” Minako said. “Got annoyed I didn’t know who he was, and then Mari started calling him Yurio and he blew up. I’ll train him out of it.” She pointed at the table. “You left your phone, by the way.”

Yuuri dropped the flour off in the kitchen and retrieved his phone. “Oh, Phichit moved back to Thailand! I’ll bet he’s excited.” He certainly looked it in his most recent selfie, beaming in front of an unfamiliar rink. “And I have another email from Victor.”

“Oooooooh,” Minako said, wiggling her eyebrows. Yuuri glared at her until she went away.

_Have you picked your music yet?_

_-V_

Once again, Yuuri was reduced to blinking at the screen. Why did Victor care? Was he afraid Yuuri was going to copy him again? He was still sitting, staring at the screen and contemplating his response, when Yuri Plisetsky came back and threw a sneer at him on his way to the kitchen. _Yurio it is, then_ , Yuuri thought, allowing himself a small smirk.

Yuuri had just opened a reply to Victor’s email when Yurio came back and dropped into a chair, bag of chips in hand. “Where’s your home rink?” Yurio asked around a mouthful.

“It’s pretty much directly under the castle, twenty minutes from here if you’re running. Ice Castle Hasetsu. Why?”

Yurio shoved another handful of chips in his mouth and brushed his hands off on his pants. “I don’t want to go two weeks off the ice.”

Yuuri could relate. “Well, I have it most evenings, but I can talk to the Nishigoris and see about getting you some time on your own.” _Away from the triplets_ , he thought - they would monetize the situation somehow, and he got the sense Yurio wasn’t above physically fighting children.

“Thanks.”

_No music yet_ , Yuuri typed. _My coach and I are still working on it. I promise not to copy you again._

_-Katsuki Yuuri_

“Who’re you texting?” Yurio asked, rolling the chip bag closed.

Yuuri ducked to hide his blush. “Victor Nikiforov. He emailed me, I’m just replying.”

“Ugh.” Yurio stood and stretched, bending down to wrap his hands around his ankles. “He’s been awful. Won’t stop watching that video you leaked, when he’s supposed to be choreographing _my_ senior debut.”

“I didn’t leak it, someone took it without telling me,” Yuuri said automatically, and then blushed deeper as the rest of Yurio’s sentence sunk in. “I really hope he wasn’t mad, I never meant for anyone to see that.”

“ _Mad_ isn’t the word I’d use.” Yurio rolled his spine back up, stretching his neck from side to side. “How do you get to Minako’s studio from here? I’m supposed to start this afternoon.”

“It’s near the rink. Turn left when you get there and then head around the mountain, you’ll run right into it.” Yuuri tucked his phone into his pocket and stood as well. “There’s a bike somewhere you can take if you want.”

“I’ll run. Later.” Yurio left the chips on the table and headed to his room. Yuuri gave the bag a longing look, but put it back in the kitchen untouched just as his phone buzzed again.

_I wouldn’t mind if you did, to be honest - it’s the best thing that’s happened to my motivation in years, and I need it this season more than ever. Do you pick your own music or does your coach?_

_-V_

“I have no idea what’s happening,” Yuuri said aloud. A guest passing the dining room gave him an odd look and he bent over his phone again.

_Usually my coach picks, but this year my new coach (Minako Okukawa) is making me pick my own free skate music._

Yuuri bit his lip, and then kept typing.

_Why do you need a motivation boost?_

_-Yuuri_

The reply came three hours later, as Yuuri locked himself in his room to avoid the smell of the pork cutlet bowls his father was making.

_I’m choreographing a piece for Yuri Plisetsky_ _on top_ _of my own programs. And I have a few major life decisions to make_ _as well_ _._

_I’ve always found picking my own music makes for a much better program, to be honest. You should try producing if you can, that works even better. More of a connection._

_Look, I hate emailing, can we text instead?_

_-V_

He’d included his number. Yuuri called Phichit. “Congratulations on moving back to Thailand. Victor Nikiforov just gave me his number,” he blurted out as soon as Phichit answered, and then winced. “I’m sorry, that was rude. Please tell me about Thailand.”

Phichit blinked. “Thailand will be Thailand later. What’s this about Victor?”

“I’m not really sure what’s going on. We’ve had a few emails, and he keeps asking me about my plans for next season. And then he gave me his number so we could text instead.”

Phichit whistled. “Are you going to do it?”

Yuuri groaned and dropped his head into his free hand. “I don’t know. It’s easier to pretend he’s not an actual person via email. I don’t know if I can hold a real-time conversation with him.”

“Aww, Yuuri.” Phichit’s voice was fond enough to make Yuuri look up. “I wish you hadn’t left Detroit, I could give you the hug you deserve right now.”

Yuuri smiled. “Why did you leave Detroit, anyway?”

“I told you, Detroit is boring without you. And I’m doing _The King and the Skater_ this year, and I want to do it from home, you know?” Phichit grinned.

“I’m excited for you. While I have you here,” Yuuri added, on a sudden inspiration, “do you remember that girl who composed that one song for me, that I didn’t wind up using?”

“Oh, Ketty? Yeah, I remember her. Want me to put out some feelers? I’m sure she isn’t mad.”

Yuuri had never been more grateful that Phichit knew him so well. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I gotta run. You should text Victor. Bye!”

Yuuri waved, and entered Victor’s number into a text window.

_I was thinking about producing a piece, or trying to. - Yuuri_

_It’s such fun. - V_

\--

Later that week, Yuuri pushed the door to the rink open with his shoulder, skates in hand, and sat down to take his sneakers off.

Yuuko had texted, saying that a pipe had burst outside the front doors and the Ice Castle was closed while it was repaired, and that if he wanted to come in the back way he could have the rink to himself for a few hours. As he stood again, he could see her in her booth; she waved at him and went back to her papers.

Yurio had only been staying with them for two days, but Yuuri already felt tense and on edge from the hostility. He could feel his shoulders relax for the first time in forty-eight hours as he went through his figures, the only sound the scraping of his blades on the ice.

He warmed up slowly, taking his time, and then moved into spins and jumps. He was so close to landing the quadruple Salchow he could almost taste it, but something about his back foot landing kept him tumbling to the ice.

He picked himself up after his eleventh fall to find Yurio leaning on the boards, staring at him. “Your angle’s wrong,” Yurio said, frowning slightly. “You’re tipped too far back when you land, it’s sending your center of gravity off.”

“You can land a quad Salchow?” Yuuri asked, brushing shaved ice off his palms.

Yurio nodded. “Since I was twelve, but Yakov wouldn’t let me use it in competition until this season.”

“Quads are hard on the body,” Yuuri said. “What are you doing here?”

“Minako wants to have today’s session on the ice, since I’m learning ballet for figure skating purposes. We were supposed to have it in an hour, but Yuuko said the place was closed today, so I came by early.”

Yuuri looked at the booth; Yuuko was making an apologetic face at him. “Sorry!” she said over the loudspeaker. “I forgot, Yuuri.” He waved at her and she bowed and went back to her paperwork.

Yuuri turned to Yurio. “Yuuko promised me the rink this morning, but you’re welcome to share it until Minako gets here.”

Yurio shrugged and stepped onto the ice, skating past Yuuri to the far end of the rink and starting to warm up. Yuuri went back into figures, and then spins, until he could forget about the other skater’s presence and start trying to land the Salchow again.

“God, this is too painful to watch,” Yurio snapped after twenty more minutes. He skated towards Yuuri. “Like this.” He checked his speed and jumped, landing perfectly.

Yuuri scrambled for his phone, opening up the camera app. “Can you do that again?”

Yurio rolled his eyes but complied, letting Yuuri take video from three angles. He leaned over Yuuri’s shoulder as the videos played back, pointing ot the screen. “There. That’s where you start leaning back too much. It knocks your feet out from under you when you land.”

Yuuri set the phone back on the boards and tried again. He wobbled a bit on the landing but managed to stay on his feet. “I could feel the difference that time.” He went again, overcompensating slightly and landing with his hand on the ice in front of him.

Yurio clicked his tongue. “Here, I’ll show you one more time.” Before he could get more than a foot across the ice, Minako flung open the door to the rink. Yurio snapped to attention.

“Getting in some partner practice, boys?” Minako asked, sitting down with a pair of rental skates in her hand.

“Yuuko texted me that the rink was clear this morning,” Yuuri said. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“No, stay,” Minako said. “This is your wheelhouse, after all. And besides,” she added, waving one skated foot in the air. “You know I’m not the steadiest on these things. An extra pair of hands to haul me up wouldn’t go amiss.”

Yuuri looked over his shoulder at Yurio, who shrugged. “Sure,” Yuuri said. “I can stay for a while longer. You are pretty bad in skates.”

Minako wrinkled her nose at him.

Yuuri was frowning over the videos he’d taken of Yurio at the rink that night, when a text alert obscured the top of the screen. He tapped over to it. _I hear you’re teaching Yuri how to dance - V_

Yuuri snorted. _Hardly. He helped me with a jump issue, so I stuck around for his ballet on ice lesson. Minako’s rotten on skates - Yuuri_

_Why is she coaching you, then? - V_

_I asked her to. She knows me better than anyone, and she loves figure skating, even if she’s not good at it herself - Yuuri_

_Fair enough. I didn’t mean it as a criticism. Moral support is just as important as technical skill. Much more so for someone at your level - V_

Yuuri buried his face in his pillow. _I’m a dime-a-dozen figure skater who doesn’t need a technically proficient coach because I’m never going to be technically proficient myself, you mean - Yuuri_

It was a massive overshare, and Yuuri winced, but the response came a moment later: _Well, not with that attitude - V_

_What do you think of this song? - V_

Yuuri tapped on the attachment under his message, opening up a song file. _It’s pretty_ , he typed after the song ended. _Good to skate to - Yuuri_

_I thought so too - V_

_Did I just get a preview of your short program this season? - Yuuri_

_Not mine. I’m trying to pick Yuri’s music, I’m choreographing one for him this year and Yakov doesn’t trust his taste - V_

Yuuri tried to picture Yurio skating to such a peaceful, quiet song. _Good luck - Yuuri_

Victor sent him eight laughing emojis.

Yuuri woke from his afternoon nap four days later to the sound of music coming from Yurio’s room down the hall, the same quiet song Victor had sent him; only now, it was punctuated by swearing and the occasional dull kick. He rolled out of bed and knocked in Yurio’s door. “Don’t destroy our furniture or you’ll have to pay for it,” he said, when Yurio opened the door. “Is this your short program music?”

“ _Agape_ ,” Yurio sneered. “How did you know?”

“Victor sent it to me a few days ago. He said he was still deciding on your music.”

Yurio shoved his finger in Yuuri’s face. “Don’t distract him. I need him focused on my program, not flirting with you. Especially if he’s making me skate to such boring music.”

“I kind of like it.” Yuuri had listened to it several times since Victor had first sent it to him, and could see the shape of a story in it that he quite liked. “But it isn’t quite you, I agree.”

Yurio groaned. “Victor’s all about _surprising_ the audience. Only no one’s surprised by anything he does anymore, so he’s punishing me.” He kicked his suitcase where it was spread out on the floor and flung himself on the bed. “Have you landed the Salchow yet?”

Yuuri nodded. “I’m getting better.” He’d only fallen four times yesterday, out of fifteen. He was sure he could have it consistently by the start of the season.

“Good,” Yurio said. “I want you in top form when I crush you in the Grand Prix Final.”

“We’ll see,” Yuuri said, sliding Yurio’s door shut.


	4. Chapter 4

_Late April 2016, Hasetsu_

Yu-Topia was oddly quiet without Yurio’s presence, despite having their largest occupancy all winter. The day after he left, Yuuri slept in past ten o’clock for the first time since arrival, and woke groggy and confused. Mari looked despondent when Yuuri slouched into the kitchen for breakfast.

Yuuri was eyeing the full coffeepot, wondering how much of it he could get down before his father caught him, when his phone buzzed with an email. He looked down, then shoved his chair back and ran for his earbuds.

He called Minako on his way out the door. “How quickly can you meet me at the rink?” he asked as soon as she picked up.

“Forty-five minutes, or half an hour if you’ll settle for the studio,” she said.

“See you in half an hour.” He picked up his running pace.

Yuuri beat her there, and was halfway through a set of leg stretches when she opened the door. “Where’s the fire?”

He dropped to the floor and gestured for her to sit as well. “My free skate music. Composed by Ketty Abelashvili.”

Minako’s face lit up and she leaned towards Yuuri’s phone as he placed it on the mat and pressed _play_.

She played it again once the final chords stopped echoing, closing her eyes. “Yes. Yes, I can choreograph you something wonderful to this. Who’s Ketty Abelashvili?”

“An old friend of mine from Detroit. A conservatory student, or she was when I was there. I think she’s graduated since then.”

She beamed. “You produced this?” He nodded, and she reached out to ruffle his hair. “Good for you, Yuuri, it’s perfect. Can you email it to me as well?”

He picked his phone up and did it right then. “When can we start working on it?”

“Tomorrow.” Minako stood. “I have an event at the bar tonight that I can’t reschedule. But go to the rink and start thinking up ideas tonight. I’ll bring your short program music tomorrow and we’ll get going.”

“You’ve decided, then?”

“I had it narrowed down to a few options, but hearing that, I know which one it has to be.” From the grin on her face, Yuuri could tell he wasn’t going to love it as much as she did.

\--

“No.” Yuuri shook his head and skated a few feet away from the speakers, as though the music could reach out and smack him if he got too close. “No, Minako, I can’t skate that.”

“Yes you can,” she said patiently, pausing the music. “It’ll be the perfect counterpoint to your free skate program, it’ll set it up perfectly. Plus, you can surprise the audience this way. Isn’t that what Victor always does?”

“He’s a genius,” Yuuri said. “What did you say this was called again?”

“ _On Love: Eros_.” Minako pressed the button to skip to the beginning of the track. “Sexual passion. The artist released a number of different arrangements of the same music, all highlighting different types of love. I was thinking _Agape_ originally for you, or _Storge_ , but _Eros_ will push you, Yuuri, and that’s what you need.”

Yuuri gulped. “Yurio’s skating to _Agape_.”

“What?”

Yuuri nodded. “Victor decided last week. Yurio’s using _Agape_ for his short program.”

“Hmm.” Minako frowned, and then shrugged. “Well, it won’t be the first time two skaters use different arrangements of the same music. And they’re very different, after all.”

“That’s not my only issue,” Yuuri said. “This is music for a playboy, Minako, someone who knows what they’re doing. That isn’t me.”

“I think it can be.” Minako leaned onto the wall of the rink. “Tell you what. Give me two weeks.”

“What?”

“Work with me for two weeks on this program. If you really think you can’t pull it off by the end of that time, we’ll find something different.” She caught his eye. “Trust me, Yuuri. I know you.”

Yuuri wrinkled his nose, but she was right. She did know him, and she knew what he could do. “Fine.”

She beamed.

\--

_June 2016, Hasetsu_

_How do you decide on costumes for your programs? - Yuuri_

_Honestly, it’s where I’m the most hands-off in the whole process, Yakov is surprisingly opinionated on the subject - V_

_Having trouble? - V_

_I’ve got the free skate one mostly sorted, but the short program is causing problems. We can’t settle on anything - Yuuri_

_What did I say? Producing the program is the way to go. Deeper connection - V_

_Yes, yes, you’re a genius - Yuuri_

_Sorry. That was rude - Yuuri_

_It’s just that the character’s a stretch for me, and I can’t get a foothold. I feel like if I have the outfit, that will help, but I don’t even know where to start - Yuuri_

_Clothes make the man - V_

_How tall are you? - V_

The package came two days later. “Yuuri,” his mother called. “There’s a big box for you.”

Yuuri hauled it down the hall and into his room once he saw the Russian lettering on the label. “Victor, you didn’t,” he murmured to himself as he slit open the tape, and then gasped. Inside were a stack of costumes that Yuuri recognized immediately, folded neatly under a note handwritten in English. Yuuri pawed through the stack until - _there_. Victor’s black costume from his last Junior World Championship, silver still shining, half-skirt draping just as he remembered. Clutching it in one hand, he opened the note.

_I was your height now when I was in Juniors. See anything you like?_

_-V❤_

Yuuri nearly dropped his phone pulling it out of his pocket, and had it pressed to his ear before the first ring finished. It rang five more times before an answer came. “Good morning, Yuuri,” came Victor’s voice, hoarse and thick, and Yuuri finally did the math.

“Oh God, it’s five in the morning in Russia. I’m so sorry, please go back to sleep,” Yuuri babbled, and hung up.

He stared at the phone in his hand. Five seconds later, it rang. Face burning, Yuuri answered. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think about the time zones -”

“Yuuri,” Victor said, sounding more awake. “It’s fine. I take it my surprise arrived?”

“Do you mean it?” Yuuri blurted, still staring at the costume. “Is this just for inspiration, or can I actually use one? I know I said I wouldn’t copy you again but -”

Victor laughed. “If you find one you like, you’re welcome to use it.”

“One I _like_? Victor, you’ve solved my whole program with this.”

“Glad to hear it.” Yuuri could almost hear his smile. “Which one is it?”

Yuuri was beaming now, enough to be brave. “You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?”

“I like the sound of that. Will you at least tell me the song?”

Yuuri was too elated to be nervous about saying, “Actually, Minako picked _Eros_.”

“Oh, wonderful.” Victor laughed, low and pleased. “Yuri will hate it, and nothing motivates that boy more than spite.”

Yuuri grinned. “I can believe it. Do you want me to ship the rest back to you?”

“No, keep them. They’re not getting any use here, after all, and I like the idea of you having them.”

Yuuri could hear Victor moving around, and a sleepy bark in the background. His chest gave a little pang of remembrance. “Sorry again for waking you up.”

“Yuuri.” Yuuri had never heard the vowels in his name held so long before. “I told you, I don’t mind. I’d rather talk to you than sleep.”

“I - All the same,” Yuuri stammered. “I just wanted to thank you for this. It’s too much.”

“Happy to do it.” Victor paused. “And I got to hear your voice, which is a nice bonus.”

If this conversation went on any longer, Yuuri was going to explode. Or possibly implode. “I have to go show Minako. Go back to sleep.”

“Hmm. If you insist. Until next time.”

_Next time._

Yuuri carefully stowed the costume in his backpack and made record time to Minako’s apartment. He hammered on the door for a solid three minutes before she opened it, hair up, blinking sleepily. “Yuuri? What is it? We’re not scheduled for practice until this afternoon.”

“I solved _Eros_.” She blinked at him again, and he went on, “I figured out what’s wrong with my short program, why it isn’t working. I need you to teach me how to dance like a woman.”

\--

_September 2016, Okayama Prefecture_

It was fitting, Yuuri thought wryly, that his first win of the season should happen while blood was gushing out of his nose. He’d certainly put in the sweat and tears during the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship. Thankfully, Minako knew how to handle his anxiety, and Minami had forgiven him his standoffishness.

He took a mirror selfie in the bathroom and sent it to Phichit, with the caption _And they say figure skating isn’t a contact sport._ After a moment’s hesitation, he sent the same message to Victor, and then started working the tissue out of his nose.

Phichit didn’t respond right away, but Yuuri was cleaning the worst of the blood off his face when his phone rang. “Are you alright?” Victor asked when Yuuri answered.

Putting the call on speaker, Yuuri kept dabbing at the tender skin under his nostril. “I’m fine. No concussion, just a nosebleed.”

“What happened?”

“I misjudged how much space I had for a combination jump and slammed my face into the wall.” Victor whistled. “I still won, though, with a personal best.”

“Congratulations,” Victor said. “What’s the event?”

“The Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship,” Yuuri recited, grabbing a fresh paper towel to dry his face. “Regional competition. I needed to requalify for the Nationals.”

Victor hummed. “So what you’re saying is, I may be able to find pictures of which short program costume you went with.”

“If you want to spoil the surprise.” Yuuri turned off speakerphone and pressed the phone to his ear. “We’re both in the Cup of China, so you won’t have to wait too much longer to see it in person.” The thought made Yuuri’s limbs feel like they were filled with butterflies.

To Yuuri’s surprise, Victor sighed. “I actually have some news on that front, I’m afraid. I’m glad you texted, I need to say it aloud to someone and I didn’t want to just call you with this out of the blue.”

“What’s going on?” Yuuri leaned against the wall.

“I’m withdrawing from the Grand Prix series this year.”

Yuuri almost dropped his phone. “What? Why? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Victor said quickly. “There’s just...something going on with my hip. I can still skate on it, but I think I have to sit out the Grand Prix and save it for the Russians, Europeans, and Worlds, and Yakov agrees.”

“What do the doctors say?”

Victor laughed, warm. “You sound like Yakov. The doctors aren’t sure, but I’ll be using the time to consult with them. Are you disappointed?”

“A little,” Yuuri confessed. “I wanted to redeem myself after last year.” _And see you_.

“I’ll be in the Worlds,” Victor said. “Beat me there.” Yuuri snorted. Victor went on, “You can do it, you know. You have what it takes to win. You just need the confidence.”

“Easier said than done.” The bathroom door opened and Nishigori stuck his head in. Yuuri waved at him, and he ducked back out; Yuuri could hear him calling to the others that he’d found him. “I have to go, we’re headed back home.”

“Congratulations again on your victory, Yuuri. Until next time.”


	5. Chapter 5

_Beijing, October 2016_

Phichit stopped them again for another selfie, posing in front of a particularly lush group of trees. Yuuri smiled for the camera and then groaned. “Please, no more, I’m starving.”

“I’m sorry,” Phichit said, grinning as he uploaded the picture. “I just missed you! It’s been ages!”

“It’s been six months,” Yuuri said.

“AGES,” Phichit intoned, throwing an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. “I have to document every second of our reunion.”

“Can you skip the seconds between now and dinner? I’m hungry.”

“Ugh, fine.” Phichit behaved himself until they were seated and placed their orders, and then grabbed Yuuri as soon as the server walked away to haul him over the table and press their faces together. “Say ‘hot pot’!” Yuuri tried to frown but was laughing too hard to pull it off. “Beautiful,” Phichit declared, tagging the photo and uploading it. “Now, fill me in on everything you haven’t told me yet.”

“How do you know there are things I haven’t told you yet?”

“Because I saw a picture of your short program outfit. How did you get Victor’s costume?”

Yuuri blushed. “He sent them to me.”

“Them? Also, why?”

“I mentioned I was having difficulty finding something for the short program. He sent me a box of his old stuff, told me I could use whatever I wanted if I found something I liked. And I did.”

“Wow.” Phichit was beaming at Yuuri, and Yuuri blushed. “Yuuri, that’s huge.”

“It’s nothing. He was just being nice.” Yuuri picked up his napkin and unfolded it. “Can we talk about something else?”

Phichit’s beam softened into a smile. “Sure. Did I tell you about Ciao Ciao and the flower shop?”

Phichit was deep into a description of Celestino trying to detangle a rose flower crown from his hair, when Yuuri’s phone buzzed. _You look lovely in green - V_

Yuuri turned around so fast he almost stood up, chair scraping backwards. Phichit made a surprised noise, but Victor Nikiforov was standing at the entrance to the restaurant, smiling at Yuuri. Phichit would forgive him his rudeness under the circumstances.

“Mind if we join you?” Victor said, approaching their table. He was followed by Christophe Giacometti, and Yuuri could hear Phichit give a small whimper of his own behind him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Trying to obtain dinner,” Chris said, pushing past Victor to sit beside Phichit. Victor hovered, still smiling at Yuuri, until Yuuri remembered that he was still hunched over the chair beside him and straightened to let Victor sit down.

“I already had the hotel room and the flight booked,” Victor said quietly as he sat down. “I figured I might as well put them to use, instead of canceling. I have a rinkmate competing here.”

“Oh,” Yuuri said, as a waiter came by with two more menus.

Victor leaned closer. “Besides, I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to see you skate in person. I still need to know which costume you chose.” He pulled back, winked, and picked up a menu. “Oh, this is lovely,” he said, louder. “I can order whatever I like!”

Chris dipped his fingers into the water glass in front of him and flicked them at Victor. “Hush, you awful man. I still haven’t forgiven you for taking away my motivation this season.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage to push through,” Victor said, wiping water off his brow.

“Besides, you might be surprised,” Phichit piped up. Chris turned to look at him, and he went on, “I’m just saying, with Victor out of the running, there’s a lot more competition now. Take Yuuri,” he said, nodding across the table, and Chris’ gaze swung to Yuuri. “From what I hear, his program might interest you quite a bit.”

“I haven’t told you anything about my program,” Yuuri said blankly. “Come to think of it, I didn’t show you my costume either.”

“No, but Minako and Ciao Ciao are Instagram friends. I think they’re meeting up for drinks now, actually.”

This was such horrifying news that Yuuri nearly stood up again to go find them and put a stop to it, but their food arrived before he could get out from under the table, and Victor was smiling at him again. “Do you know where?” he asked.

“Just the hotel bar, I think,” Phichit said. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“The hotel bar. Good. It’ll be easier to get her upstairs that way.” Minako was the only person Yuuri had ever met that stood a chance of drinking Celestino under the table.

Chris was still eyeing him speculatively. Yuuri busied himself with his salad.

Phichit carried the conversation through dinner, leaving Yuuri to surreptitiously scan social media for any indication of what his coach was up to. There was still nothing up when they paid their bills, and he slipped his phone back into his pocket for the walk back to the hotel. “Everything alright?” Victor asked, hanging back while Phichit and Chris went ahead.

“As far as I can tell. They haven’t done anything social media-worthy, at least.”

“Who? Oh, your coach and your old coach?”

Yuuri nodded. “At least I’m not skating until the afternoon. She should be back to normal by then.”

“Are you nervous?”

Yuuri shook his head. “Not yet. I will be tomorrow, though.” Phichit’s company was always good for keeping the tendrils of anxiety out of his stomach before a competition, but even his best friend wouldn’t be enough to keep him calm the day of an event. “Are you nervous, about sitting out the season?”

Victor shrugged. “It will be nice to take a break and watch as a friend and fan, rather than a competitor. I so rarely get the opportunity.”

“How’s your hip?”

“Better, now that I’ve stopped skating so much.” They went on in silence for a few more steps, listening to Phichit and Chris talk about quadruple Lutzes in front of them, and then Victor said, “I wasn’t entirely honest, before. My hip isn’t the only reason I’m taking a breather.”

“Oh?”

Victor sighed. “My dog, Makkachin - he’s old, and I had this nightmare...” He trailed off.

When it became clear that he wasn’t going to say more, Yuuri said, “I understand.” Victor turned to look at him. “My dog died last year. During the Final. I wasn’t there.”

Victor let out a long breath. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been worried about telling people, thinking it’s stupid for wanting to pause for a dog who isn’t even sick, but -”

“But you should be there,” Yuuri finished. “If he goes. You should be there.”

“Thank you,” Victor said. Yuuri smiled at him. Up ahead, Phichit and Chris had their phones out and were talking more quietly over them. “What was your dog’s name?”

Yuuri opened his mouth to answer, and then snapped it shut again. Victor noticed. “What?”

“No,” Yuuri said, blushing.

“Tell me.”

“ _No_.”

Victor ran a few steps and turned, walking backwards in front of Yuuri. “Tell me, tell me, tell me. I demand you tell me.”

Yuuri covered his face with his hands. “He may have been a toy poodle, and his name may have been Victor.”

Victor’s laugh made Yuuri look up again, and made Phichit and Chris turn around. “Oh, wonderful. Do you have pictures?”

Yuuri did have a few pictures still on his phone. “Amazing! He looks just like me!” Victor exclaimed, grinning when Yuuri raised an eyebrow at him. He pulled out his own phone to show Yuuri his album of Makkachin in turn, and they were back at the hotel before either of them realized.

“Oh, no,” Yuuri said, as Phichit called his name and he looked up to see Minako hanging onto a very amused-looking Chris. “I have to go.”

Victor laughed again, and when Yuuri looked at him, gave him a warm smile. “Until tomorrow, then. Good luck with that.”

Yuuri managed to peel Minako off Chris without too much fuss, and got her into the elevator with an apologetic glance at the other skater. “He’s so beautiful,” Minako said, too loud in the small elevator.

“I know,” Yuuri said.

“So sexy,” she slurred, then rubbed a hand through Yuuri’s hair. “But you’re gonna be sexier tomorrow.”

Yuuri thought of Victor leaning close to talk to him, and said, “Yes, I know.”

\--

_Cup of China Men’s Short Program, 2016_

Phichit was the last skater in Group 1, and Yuuri stood in the stands to watch him skate. Phichit was practically glowing with excitement, and rightly so; his program was the best Yuuri had ever seen him do. Yuuri cheered for him as he got his score, and then slipped back inside and put in his earbuds.

He had spent a lot of time on his playlists, and it had paid off at the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship; his short program playlist started quietly, with the music he often went to when particularly anxious, and slowly built up to a faster pace, designed to get him in character. He stretched as he listened, and didn’t open his eyes until Minako tapped him on the shoulder and told him he was next. Georgi Popovitch was looking at him, and looked away when Yuuri caught his eye.

Leo de la Iglesia was nearing the end of his program as Yuuri stepped out to the side of the rink and unzipped his jacket, handing it to Minako in exchange for his water bottle. Leo finished, bowed, and moved to the kiss and cry; Yuuri uncapped his skates and stepped onto the ice. “Are you ready?” Minako said. Yuuri nodded; the playlist had worked again, and he felt calm, and confident. “Good. Now, go show these men how a woman skates.”

He grinned at her and went to center ice as soon as the applause for Leo died down. He looked around before settling into his pose, scanning the bleachers until he saw Victor near the kiss and cry, sitting wide-eyed with his hands over his mouth. Yuuri licked his lips and started dancing.

The entire first half of his program was all steps and spins, designed to be a confidence boost to get him through the more technically difficult second half. It worked; he was nailing it, he could tell, and the roar of the crowd as he landed his triple axel.

The quadruple Salchow was next, finally perfected; normally he heard Yurio’s sneering critique as he jumped it, but this time he heard _Don’t distract him_ , and _he’s been awful, won’t stop watching that video_ , and he landed the Salchow almost without realizing it.

_Could I be distracting him?_ Yuuri thought. _Could I be affecting him, they way he’s affecting me? There’s only one way to find out._ His final combination was clean, and from the way the rink lit up with applause as he hit his final pose, this would be another personal best. _I think I’ve found my playboy_ , Yuuri thought. He had to stifle a grin as Minako wrapped her arms around him.

As good as he knew he had been, Yuuri still gasped when his score came up on the screen - over 100, for the first time in his career. Minako punched the air next to him and squeezed him in another hug as Guang Hong Ji took the ice. As they moved out of the kiss and cry, Yuuri looked up and caught Victor’s eye. Victor waved his phone at Yuuri, and Yuuri looked down at his own. _Good choice. Very good choice - V_. Yuuri grinned up at him, and then Phichit was running up and jumping on him, yelling, “Where the hell did that come from?” into his ear.

“Well played, Yuuri,” Chris purred at him as he stepped inside the waiting room to gather his things. “And here I was worried I’d be bored without Victor on the ice.” He came closer and bent down, his mouth close to Yuuri’s ear. “But I’m up next, and unfortunately for you, eros is _my_ specialty.” Yuuri leaned away, and Chris chuckled and moved on.

“He’s got nothing on you,” Phichit said. “Come on, let’s go watch the rest from the stands.”

\--

_Cup of China, Men’s Free Skate, 2016_

Yuuri had thought his free skate playlist was as strong as his short program one, but as the number of skaters before him ticked down, he realized that he had never expected to be in first place, and he hadn’t prepared for the pressure. The regional competition had been one thing, but this was the Grand Prix series, and he was going to humiliate himself again.

Minako had him down in the parking garage to warm up, plugs in his ears, but he could still hear the occasional roar of applause from the rink above them. He was missing Phichit’s free skate, and from the sounds of it, Phichit was doing well. He gulped, and moved to stretch his hamstrings, but suddenly there were tears in his eyes and he slipped, hitting the mat hard.

“Are you okay?” Minako rushed to his side. “Are you hurt?”

Yuuri shook his head and tried again, making it to his feet this time. “Not hurt. Just nervous.”

Minako put one hand on either side of Yuuri’s face and looked at him. He couldn’t meet her eyes. She pulled him into a hug. “You’ve got enough of a lead after the short program that you can flub a few jumps and still make the podium,” she said. “If you need to drop the technical difficulty down a bit and focus on your performance, do that. I trust your judgement.” Yuuri gave a strangled half-laugh, and she took him by the shoulders and pushed him back to look him in the eyes again. “I do, Yuuri. You know this program backwards and forwards, you know what you need to do, and what it’s okay not to do this time. Okay?”

Yuuri blinked at her a few times, and then nodded, wiping his eyes. “Okay.”

“Good.” She gave him another hug. “Now finish your stretches, you’re almost up.”

Yuuri felt calmer on the way up. It hadn’t been a proper cry, not really, but it was enough to soothe some of the emotions that had been threatening to choke him. He flicked his eyes to a screen in the warm-up room long enough to take in the standings and see that Phichit was in the lead, and then unzipped his jacket and stepped out of his sweatpants. Minako nudged him, and he looked up to see Victor in front of him.

“What are you doing back here? Shouldn’t you be watching Chris?” Yuuri asked, uncapping his water bottle.

“I was worried about you,” Victor said. “No one had seen you since Guang Hong Ji started.”

“I was warming up in the garage.” Yuuri drank and handed the bottle to Minako.

Victor’s eyes went soft as he looked Yuuri up and down. “You look beautiful.”

Yuuri flushed. “Thank you.”

“Yuuri,” Minako said. “Come on, you’re up.” Victor touched his arm as they passed him, and as Yuuri stepped onto the ice during Chris’ bows, he saw Victor climb back into the stands, the same place he was sitting during the short program.

“I’m dropping the quad Salchow down to a triple,” Yuuri said to Minako, as Chris moved off into the kiss and cry. “I’ll make the flip in the second half a combination to counter it.

“Whatever you need to do,” Minako said. “Your strong points are your spins and step sequences. Do what you need to do in order to focus on them.” She hugged him over the rink’s wall. “Go on, then.”

The calm Yuuri had felt on the way up from the parking garage stayed with him as the music started. _I’m really glad I asked Minako to coach me,_ Yuuri thought, landing his first jump combination. _I can’t imagine trying to do this with Celestino as a coach, or someone else who doesn’t know me very well. She knows how to handle my weakness_.

Normally Yuuri was so focused on his performance that he could barely even hear the music, let alone the commentators, but Minako had been right - he _did_ know this program backwards and forwards. Even with the alterations to focus on, he was still present enough to hear the commentators remark on his changed Salchow. _I didn’t pop it_ , he thought, moving into his sit spin. _I’m playing it safe. There’s no point wearing myself out before the Final._

It was definitely the right choice; even without the initial quad, he was still tired enough that he dropped a hand to the ice for his triple axel, something he hadn’t done in a while. _So much for gold_. Next up was the added combination. Triple flip, double toe loop. _Thank God_ , Yuuri spared a second to think before his next combination. _I might still take silver._

Victor was standing when Yuuri finished, clapping louder than anyone. As Yuuri took his glasses from Minako and slid them on, he could see the smile on Victor’s face, eyes trained on Yuuri.

“Sorry I missed your program,” Yuuri said to Phichit, later, both of them clutching their medals on the podium. “I could hear the applause, though. It must have been amazing.”

“It was,” Phichit said, grinning at him. “It’ll be better at the Final, though, and you’ll see it there.” Yuuri grinned back at him, and lifted the silver medal up for the photographers that were crowding around the rink’s edge.


	6. Chapter 6

_Rostelecom Cup Men’s Short Program, 2016_

Yuuri and Minako stepped out of the elevator into the hotel lobby, and Yuuri stopped dead. “What are you doing here?” he asked, walking up to where Victor was lounging against the wall. “You weren’t assigned to the Rostelecom Cup before you dropped out.”

“Hello to you too,” Victor said, beaming. “That’s true, but I have a couple of rinkmates competing again, and it’s not so very long a flight. I figured I might as well come by.” There was something in his eyes that made Yuuri not believe him, and Yuuri gave him a long look before turning back to Minako. “See you at the rink!” Victor called, and Yuuri frowned.

“Something on your mind?” Minako asked in the cab on the way to the rink.

“I think - no, nothing,” Yuuri answered, looking out the window. He did have something on his mind, but it was too arrogant for him to say aloud. He felt uncomfortable even thinking it.

He couldn’t _stop_ thinking it, though, all throughout the first group’s performances, all throughout his warmup. He turned on his short program playlist before his stretches, as usual, but instead of thinking about his program’s story, he thought about Victor. Minako noticed his focus as they went out to the ice, but all she said was, “I knew this program was the right choice for you. I’ve never seen you this determined.”

He grinned at her and skated out, once again scanning the bleachers for Victor. Victor was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, eyes trained directly on Yuuri. None of his rinkmates were anywhere near him. _I was right_ , Yuuri thought as the music started. _He came here to see me skate again. I better make it worth the trip_.

Barely five minutes later, Yuuri stumbled out of the kiss and cry directly into Victor’s waiting arms. “That was beautiful,” Victor murmured into his ear. “Very seductive.”

“Worth the flight?” Yuuri asked. He pulled back to see Victor’s face as he asked.

Victor beamed, eyes sparkling. “One hundred percent.” He hugged Yuuri again and then let him go. Only then did Yuuri realize that Minako was tugging on his arm, directing him to where the interviewers waited to talk to him.

JJ managed to pass Yuuri in the rankings, but Yuuri was still buzzing from his new personal best and Victor’s embrace the next night. “I’ve never seen you this pleased after a competition,” Minako noted over dinner, glass of wine in her hand.

“It’s going well. I feel good about the free skate tomorrow.”

“And nothing to do with the fact that Victor Nikiforov liked your performance, hmm?”

Yuuri flushed. “He came here to see me.”

“What?”

“That’s what I was thinking, in the car yesterday. That he flew here from St. Petersburg to see me skate. I asked him after the performance and he said it was worth it.” Yuuri tried to bite back his smile and failed, but when he looked back up at Minako, she was frowning slightly.

“That’s... I didn’t know you two were that close.”

“Well, we talk a lot,” Yuuri said. _Almost every day_ , he realized with a start. _Even I didn’t realize it was that much_. “And he’s been really supportive, and helpful.”

“You’ve been going to him for help?”

Yuuri blinked; her tone had been sharper than he expected. “Well - more advice than help? _You’re_ my coach.”

Minako blinked, and undid her frown. “That’s right. Well, if his advice has got you doing so well, I guess I can’t complain.” She was quiet throughout the rest of dinner, though, and Yuuri felt the familiar twist of anxiety start in his stomach.

Victor was in the lobby of the hotel when they stepped out of the restaurant. “Yuuri,” he called, raising a hand. Yuuri looked at Minako and then walked over to him. “Yuuri, I have to go,” Victor said.

“Go?”

“Back to St. Petersburg. I can’t stay for your free skate. I’m sorry.”

Yuuri swallowed, which was suddenly quite difficult. “Why? Is everything okay? Is it Makkachin?”

“No, Makkachin’s fine,” Victor said quickly. “It’s just - I was scheduled for an exploratory surgery next week, for my hip, but the doctors just called and said they can fit me in tomorrow.” His face was apologetic. “It’s an extra week to recover before the Russians, and -”

“I understand,” Yuuri said, cutting him off. “Of course. You have to go.”

“I’m sorry,” Victor said again, eyes searching Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri pasted on a smile. “Don’t be. I’ll be fine. And your health is more important anyway.”

Victor pulled him into a hug. “You’re going to be wonderful,” he said. “You _are_ wonderful.”

Yuuri managed to gather himself enough to wrap his arms around Victor in return, and then stepped away. “Go,” he said. “You have a flight to catch.”

“I’ll see you at the Final,” Victor promised, and then ran for the elevator, door sliding shut as soon as he was inside.

“What was that about?” Minako asked, as Yuuri rejoined her.

“Victor has to go home tonight,” he said. “He was able to get a surgery slot tomorrow, and he can’t afford to pass it up.”

Minako hummed. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Don’t let it distract you.”

\--

_Rostelecom Cup Men’s Free Skate, 2016_

Yuuri was distracted.

Victor had texted him that morning, a picture of Makkachin with the caption, _Good luck!_ Yuuri knew Victor wasn’t going into surgery until late in the afternoon, but he kept checking his phone for news, and stealing glances at Yakov, who was looking more pinched and grumpy than usual. Even Yurio was on edge, snapping at anyone who came within ten feet of him.

Minako was annoyed with Yuuri’s mental state, which didn’t help either. She tried to hide it, but there was a set to her mouth that Yuuri recognized, and by the time Yurio was stepping onto the ice, Yuuri could barely see straight.

_A performance beyond his limits_ , Yuuri thought, as Yurio collapsed onto the ice, panting. _That’s what it must have been_. It had clearly worked; there was no way Yurio would miss the podium. He might even have beaten JJ, backloading his jumps as he did. _He definitely beat me. I can’t do this_. Only he had to do it, and right then. Minako sent him off with a hug that felt warmer than Yuuri expected, but then he was alone on the cold ice, and the music was starting; and all Yuuri could think was, _Victor must be going in about now._

His first jump came, a popped double, and Yuuri shook himself mentally. _Victor’s going to be fine. It’s just exploratory. I need to focus on my own problems right now._ He hit the ice hard, having slipped the Salchow’s landing. _Crap. Come on. Focus._

He could hear Yurio in his head, shouting encouragements at him - no, that was actually happening, Yuuri realized with a start. _I would have expected him to be angry. After all, he taught me that jump, and apparently I still haven’t learned it._

The choreographic sequence was a welcome relief. _Yurio pulled off an amazing performance, backloading all his jumps. But he doesn’t have the stamina I do. I have the staying power I need to make it through this. I_ will _skate for Victor again._

Yuuri gritted his teeth and got through the triple axel, the triple flip, the two combinations, and then on a turn, he could see Minako’s blurry form at the rink’s edge. _No matter what, I think I’ve ruined things with her_ , he thought, and dropped a hand to the ice on his final quad. _She told me not to get distracted._ From here, it was just dancing until the end. He could dance. _It’s okay. I’ve competed in worse states than this, and my PCS is always higher than I would have expected. I still have a chance._ The music stopped and he dropped to his knees, gasping for air, delaying the kiss and cry as long as he could. Finally, though, he pushed himself up. _Time to see how I did._

He’d done enough. Fourth place, just barely good enough. Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri could see Michele Crispino cover his face with his hands; Yuuri couldn’t blame him. Minako hugged him when the results were announced, but he detached himself from her fairly quickly. “I’m going for a walk,” he said. “I’ll meet you at the hotel.” It was a half-hour’s walk from the rink; enough time to clear his head.

Minako kept a hand on his shoulder and looked at him for another moment, then let him go. “Alright. I know you must be feeling rough right now, but you did it, Yuuri. We’re going to the Final.”

He managed a smile and bundled up, stepping out into the Russian winter. _We’re going to the Final, but that’s as far as we’re going. I have to retire._ Yuuri could see the edges of his relationship with Minako fraying under the stress, and he couldn’t go back to Celestino, not after what he’d accomplished this season. But he couldn’t go forward, either - no one knew him as well as Minako did, and even she couldn’t handle coaching him. _After the Final, I’ll retire, and I’ll go back to being Victor’s fan. Maybe we’ll even still be friends. Eventually Minako will forgive me, and everything will be okay_.

Something heavy slammed into his back and he stumbled forward, catching himself on the fence he had been leaning against. “What the hell happened to you?” Yurio said, leaning back against it. “That was the worst skating you’ve ever done!”

Yuuri sat in the snow, crossing his arms over his knees. “I had a lot on my mind.”

“Don’t you work out your problems while you skate? I thought that was your whole deal.” Yurio sank down next to him and tossed a brown paper sack at him. “Eat those.”

“What?”

“Eat. Now.”

Yuuri ate. “Is this - katsudon? In a pirozhki?”

“My grandpa made them. Delicious, right?”

“For sure!” Yuuri took another bite, his favorite food warming his stomach a little. “I was worried. My coach is angry with me, and Victor...”

“Yeah.” Yurio leaned his head back against the fence. “Yakov just got the call, though. He’s out of surgery, they know what’s wrong now and he’s gonna be fine.”

Yuuri let out a long breath. “Good. That’s good.”

“But you can’t let him get to you like that.” Yurio kicked a pile of snow onto Yuuri’s legs. “I got a personal best just now, and it still wasn’t enough to beat JJ. You have no right to be more upset than me, just because your boyfriend wasn’t here.”

“He’s not - that’s -” Yuuri gave up. “You’re right,” he said instead. “I made it to the Final. I should focus on that.”

“Yeah, you should.” Yurio stood and brushed the snow off his clothes. “You’ll be no fun to beat if you’re not even trying.”

Yuuri finished the pirozhki and stood, offering the bag back to Yurio. “They’re really good.”

“Keep ‘em,” Yurio said. “Early birthday present.”

“Thanks.”

Minako was waiting in the room when he got back, not even trying to pretend like she hadn’t been counting the seconds. “Everything okay?

“Yeah,” Yuuri said, and even managed to mean it. “Everything’s going to be fine.” He leaned down to hug her where she sat on her bed, and she let out a squeak of surprise. “Thank you for coaching me.”

She wrapped an arm around him. “It’s been my pleasure, Yuuri.”


	7. Chapter 7

_Late November 2016, Hasetsu_

“A quadruple flip, Yuuri? Really?” Minako stood with her arms crossed on the ice, looking at Yuuri. “Can you even land one?”

“I’ve landed them a few times, in practice,” Yuuri said.

“Never in competition, though. You’ve never even _tried_ in competition. What’s brought this on?” She narrowed her eyes. “Is this Victor?”

Yuuri flushed. “I’ve been wanting to add another quad to my repertoire, and I wanted to cheer him up, so I asked him for advice. He’s been -”

“Coaching you,” Minako said, frowning.

“Supportive,” Yuuri finished. “ _You’re_ my coach, Minako, but you said yourself you’re not a figure skater. Why does it bother you so much that I’m asking for help from a figure skater too?”

Minako sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Yuuri, you’re so close. This is the Grand Prix Final we’re talking about, and your programs are already strong. Look at how well you’ve been doing up to now! I just don’t think the Final is the place for experimentation.”

“Let me try.” Minako raised an eyebrow, and Yuuri went on, “We’re two weeks out from the Final, right? That’s how long you gave me to decide on Eros. Give me two weeks, and if I can’t get the quad flip by then, you can tell me not to do it and I won’t. I promise.”

Minako sighed, then stuck out her hand. “Deal.”

Yuuri took it and shook. “Thank you. And I’m sorry, for not telling you about Victor helping me.”

Minako shook her head. “Ask for help from whomever you need to, Yuuri. I just don’t want you getting distracted.”

“I’m not. I promise.”

Yuuri called Victor from his bedroom that night, sitting on the floor in front of his bed. He could see the now-familiar patch of wall behind Victor’s headboard when Victor answered the call, the corner of a frame visible at the edge of the screen. “How’s the hip?” Yuuri asked.

Victor tapped on the screen and the camera flipped; Yuuri could see a fluffy brown dog curled up a careful three inches from Victor’s leg. “Makkachin’s protecting me,” Victor said, and turned the camera back around. “Every time I try to get up he sits on me until I can convince him it’s urgent.”

“Good. How long until you can get back on the ice?”

“Another week.” Victor groaned, thumping his head back onto the wall. “I’m going out of my skin. I have most of the choreography locked down for my programs, but I need to _practice_.”

Yuuri laughed. “I know how that feels. I turned an ankle a few years back. I was only off the ice for a month, but I thought I would lose my mind.”

Victor groaned again, and then lifted his head back up. “How’s your practice coming?”

Yuuri shifted. “I floated the idea of putting a quad flip into my short program.”

“Oh?”

“Minako’s giving me two weeks to practice it, and if I nail it by then she’ll let me do it.”

Victor hummed. “You could use the points, with JJ’s technical scores. But she’s right - don’t try it if you don’t think you can land it.”

“I think I can land it,” Yuuri said, feeling the confidence arrive as soon as the words came out.

Victor grinned. “Good. That’s half the battle.” They beamed at each other for a few moments, and then Victor said, “Have you ever been to Barcelona before?”

Yuuri shook his head. “You?”

“A few times - twice for a competition, and then once on vacation.”

“You’ve been on vacation?” Yuuri asked, mock surprised.

Victor laughed. “Rarely, but it has been known to happen. Barcelona’s lovely.”

“You should show me around.”

“It’s a date,” Victor said, voice warm. Yuuri flushed again, and Victor chuckled. “I should go,” he said regretfully, sitting up. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Georgi’s coming by, it’s his turn to make sure I eat.”

“That’s important. Pet Makkachin for me.”

“Until next time.”

\--

_December 2016, Barcelona_

Yuuri skated towards Minako at the end of practice, eyes wide. “Well?”

Minako frowned slightly, deep in thought, and then shook her head. “I can’t say yet. I’ll decide the morning of, after your warm-up.” Yuuri sighed, and she relaxed and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Yuuri. I know that’s not a lot of time, but you’re still inconsistent enough on the landings that I don’t feel comfortable saying one way or the other until I see how your mental state is on the day.”

Yuuri nodded. “I understand.”

“You’re definitely getting better, though!” Minako said, handing him the caps for his blades and letting him lean on her shoulder to put them on. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the work you’ve been putting in, Yuuri, because I have, and I commend you for it.”

“Thanks.” Yuuri straightened up. “Was there anything else you wanted to cover?”

“Nope,” Minako said, shaking her head. “Aside from the quad flip, I think you’re as ready as you’ll ever be. Are you going back to the hotel to rest?”

“Actually, I have plans with Victor.” Yuuri fiddled with the cap on his water bottle. “He’s been here before, he’s going to take me sightseeing.”

He looked up at her, hesitant, but she was smiling. “Have a good time! Mari’s flight gets in this afternoon, so I’ll pick her up and we can all meet for dinner.”

“Victor too?”

“Sure.” She waved him off. “Go have fun. Try not to wear yourself out too much, though.”

“Mhm!”

Victor was waiting in the lobby of the rink when Yuuri came out. He stood as Yuuri approached. “Still want to go sightseeing? Or do you want to rest before the competition tomorrow?”

“You’re not getting out of this that easily,” Yuuri said. “You promised to play tour guide, now get to it.”

“Yes, sir,” Victor said, bowing, one arm out to usher Yuuri ahead of him.

Four hours later, Yuuri collapsed onto a bench. “It’s been ages since I’ve done any serious shopping,” Victor said, dropping down next to him. “I would have liked to shop while the Euro was weaker, but still. We’ve done well. Souvenirs for everyone.”

“I’ll say.” Yuuri released the straps of the bags in one hand and stretched out the cramps in his fingers. “It’s a shame, though.”

“What is?”

“I was looking for something, but I didn’t find it.”

“Well, there’s still time!” Victor stood back up and reached for Yuuri’s free hand. “We can’t let you leave Barcelona unsatisfied. Come on, let’s go. What is it you’re looking for?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always wanted a good-luck charm, and this seems like as good a competition as any to start wearing one.” Yuuri shrugged. “But I can’t think of what it should be, and I haven’t seen anything that jumped out at me.”

“Hmmm.” Victor frowned, looking around. “You need a jewelry shop.”

They wandered for another hour before Yuuri spotted one, nestled behind a few stands in a Christmas market. “You need something that won’t fall off while you skate,” Victor said as they browsed the glass cases. “Nothing loose or especially fragile.”

“And simple,” Yuuri added, passing over a tray of bracelets. “Honestly, I’d prefer if no one else even noticed it.”

“One of these, then?” Victor pointed into the case he was standing over.

_Rings_. “Perfect,” Yuuri breathed.

Most of them had some ornamentation, but there were a few simple bands as well, in silver and gold. “It has to be gold,” Victor said, wrapping his arms around Yuuri from behind as he tried them on.

Yuuri nodded. “This one, please,” he said to the sales associate, handing over his credit card.

Victor wouldn’t let him put it on in the store; instead, he pulled Yuuri through the crowded market and into a side street, inhabited only by a church choir. He drew them up next to the church and took the box. “You shouldn’t put a good-luck charm on yourself,” Victor said, opening the box and picking up Yuuri’s right hand. “Much better when it’s a gift.”

He slid the ring onto Yuuri’s fourth finger. “Your first gold,” he said as it passed the knuckle. “May it be the first of many.” He lifted Yuuri’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the ring, lips touching Yuuri’s fingers. Yuuri flushed and swallowed, chest filling with warmth.

Minako and Mari were already at the restaurant when they finally got there, faces pressed to the window. “Yuuri,” Mari hissed as they approached. “Yurio is enjoying the company of another human!”

Indeed, Yurio and Otabek Altin were inside, having what appeared to be an enjoyable conversation. Yuuri and Victor looked at each other, eyebrows raised, and then Minako tugged on Yuuri’s sleeve. “Call the other skaters, Yuuri,” she said. “Let’s crash.”

“You just want to get drunk and drape yourself all over Chris again,” Yuuri snapped. Victor laughed.

“I promise, I just want to have dinner in the company of a bunch of world-class skaters. Please? And Mari hasn’t met everyone.”

Yuuri sighed and looked at Victor. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all. I’ll call Chris.”

Yuuri texted Phichit, who responded instantly that he was on his way. “I don’t have JJ’s number.”

“Who? Oh,” Victor said, hanging up with Chris. “Neither do I, but Chris is on his way.”

“Who cares about JJ, come on.” Minako grabbed Yuuri’s hand and tugged him inside, Yuuri pulling Victor along by their still-clasped hands.

Yurio squawked as they descended on him, but Otabek was remarkably calm about the whole thing, helping them shift tables together and gather chairs. “This is nice,” Yuuri said halfway through the meal, clutching onto the one beer he was allowing himself. It was the night before a competition, but it had been an exceptionally good day. “Last year, at the Final, I didn’t have any friends there. I was always alone.”

“And you skipped the banquet last year,” Chris said. “I remember Victor looking for you.”

“You were sick, right, Yuuri?” Victor added, before Yuuri could comment. “That’s what your coach said when I asked.”

“You asked Celestino about me?” Yuuri asked. Victor nodded. “I wasn’t really sick, but I didn’t want to go. I was so depressed, I probably would have just gotten really drunk, and no one wants that.”

“Oh, come on, Yuuri,” Phichit said from Chris’ other side. “You’re a fun drunk.”

“Do tell,” Victor said, leaning his chin on his hand and flashing Phichit a winning smile.

“Don’t you dare,” Yuuri warned, pointing at his best friend, who laughed at him.

“Wait,” Chris said, leaning forward to look at Yuuri’s hand. “What’s with the ring?”

Yuuri snapped his hands back down, but Minako had already seen. “Ring? Wait, you weren’t wearing that this morning.”

“Wait, oh my god. Did you get engaged?” Phichit practically shouted, standing up. “Tell me you two got engaged.”

“No! No one got engaged!” Yuuri squawked, waving to quiet the applause that was starting up around the restaurant. “It’s a good luck charm! No one proposed!”

“Not yet, anyway,” Victor said. “We’ll talk after you win gold.” He winked at Yuuri.

Yurio gagged as Yuuri gaped at Victor, and then JJ’s voice cut into the silence. “Sorry, boys,” he announced, Isabella wrapped around him. “But you’ll have to postpone that engagement. It’s JJ who’ll be winning the Grand Prix Final!”

After a beat of awkward silence, Chris said, “Anyone else for an early night?” Everyone threw down enough money for their own meals and left JJ yelling about skaters who couldn’t take a joke.

Victor took Yuuri’s hand again as they walked back to the hotel, falling back behind the rest of the group. “What do you do, the night before a major competition?” Yuuri asked. “Go to bed early, rest up?”

Victor shook his head. “Unfortunately, no, although it would be better if I could, I’m sure. I’m terrible at sleeping at night, I usually nap all through the morning until just before it’s time to leave. Yakov despairs of me every time.”

“Insomnia?”

“Of a kind. It’s better when I’m at home, with Makkachin, but hotel rooms are too quiet, and too cold. I’ve always hated sleeping alone.”

Yuuri asked after Makkachin, and the conversation took them all the way back to the hotel elevator. “Sleep well, Yuuri,” Victor said, when it was just the two of them in the elevator.

“You too.” Yuuri caught his eye as he stepped out onto his and Minako’s floor. “Until tomorrow.”

Victor beamed. “Until tomorrow.”


	8. Chapter 8

_Grand Prix Final Men’s Short Program, 2016_

Yuuri sat in the kiss and cry, hands clenched around his ears, the score still burning in his eyes.

He could hear Minako saying that it wasn’t a bad score at all, that he was still in the game, and he knew she was right. Before this year, he could only have dreamed of scoring this well. But it could have been higher. It _should_ have been higher, only his stupid feet had gotten confused and he’d thrown away his best chance at victory.

He’d flubbed the quad flip during warm-ups, and the rest of the skaters had all been in top form. “Do the Salchow,” Minako had told him when he skated over to meet her while the ice cleared. “Let’s not take any chances.” She had been right, and he’d known it, and he’d _meant_ to jump the Salchow. But weeks of training with the flip had taken over, and one leg had gone with muscle memory and the other with his mind, and he’d dropped a hand down on the ice.

And the components score...Yuuri hadn’t thought he’d been that distracted, but looking at the numbers, his confliction must have shown throughout the performance. His usual bolster had failed too. He clenched his fingers tighter in his hair.

Minako had one arm wrapped around him and was still talking, but Yuuri couldn’t move until the bench shook under him and he looked up to see Yurio staring down at him. “Move, katsudon. You’re blocking the kiss and cry.”

“Davai,” Yuuri managed, dry-mouthed, and then Minako hauled him up and away.

“Can you handle the interviews right now?” she said as they walked. “I can call them off.”

Yuuri shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I can manage.” He would _not_ let his own weakness interfere with anything else today.

There was a text on his phone when he was done, from Victor. _Where are you? - V_

Yuuri ignored it and let Minako sling her arm around his shoulders again. “Come on, let’s go watch the rest of the skaters.”

Yuuri had missed Phichit’s short program, and Yurio was taking the ice. Victor caught sight of them and waved from where he was seated with one of his rinkmates, but Yuuri pretended not to notice and let Minako shuffle him into an empty area. “Yurio looks calm,” Minako said as they sat down.

“He’s found his agape,” Yuuri said, and then the music started.

Yuuri could tell immediately that this was unlike any _Agape_ Yurio had skated before, and not just because of the raised arms. He recognized the look on Yurio’s face from the video of Yuuri’s own free skate from the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship; Yurio was somewhere else, lost in the music and the feeling of agape, skating as though it took no effort at all. Yuuri couldn’t find a single jolt of surprise in him when Yurio’s scores were announced, after a performance like that.

Chris was next, but Yuuri couldn’t focus on his program, or on Otabek’s. Yurio had broken a world record; there was no hope for Yuuri now to overtake him. Minako kept throwing him worried glances, so he kept his eyes firmly on the ice, but his mind felt glazed over and he couldn’t focus, until JJ popped his axel and the commotion broke through the roaring in Yuuri’s ears.

“Oh my god,” Minako said, leaning forward in her seat. “He’s cracking under the pressure.”

“It’s like watching myself, last year,” Yuuri murmured. Minako hugged him again.

“Fourth place,” she said, once JJ’s scores were announced and the rankings were finalized. “Going into the free skate, that’s a solid position.”

Yuuri snorted. “Not against a new world record it isn’t.”

“Well, I still think you have a shot at gold,” Minako said, “even if you don’t. And I’d bet my studio that you make the podium.”

“Good thing there’s no one here to take that bet,” Yuuri muttered. “Come on, let’s go. I want to get out of these clothes.”

He stopped to congratulate Yurio on the way, but otherwise Yuuri kept quiet on the way back to the hotel, and Minako let him be. There was room service waiting when he got out of the shower, and he hugged her from behind in thanks.

Minako let him sleep in the next morning, and he had no appetite for breakfast, so Yuuri was still in bed at noon when there was a knock on the door. Victor stood outside, wrapped in his dark coat and smiling softly down at Yuuri. “Want to get some lunch?”

Yuuri blinked at him. “I messed up my short program,” was all he could think to say, and he winced as soon as it was out of his mouth.

Victor frowned. “Well - you still need to eat, don’t you?”

This was objectively an awful response, Yuuri knew, and he spared a moment to be grateful that Minako had already left; but it was oddly comforting all the same. “Yeah,” he said. “Let me get my coat.”

Victor bought them sandwiches from a cafe and they ate as they walked, meandering through the streets. Victor seemed to realize fairly quickly that talking about the competition would shut Yuuri down; instead he told a story about Makkachin nearly knocking Georgi down after he accidentally jostled Victor’s bad leg. “He’s so sweet normally, I think it scared Georgi more than my shout did,” Victor said, smiling at the memory.

“He sounds like a wonderful dog.”

“He’s the best. I can’t wait for you to meet him.” Victor wadded up the wrapping from his sandwich and threw it in the next trash can they saw. “He’s an angel, and I know he’ll adore you.” Yuuri said nothing, and as they turned the corner the sea stretched out in front of them. There was a short wall, and the two of them sat down on it as Yuuri finished eating. “This reminds me of St. Petersburg,” Victor said. “The seagulls.”

“Are there seagulls in St. Petersburg?” Yuuri asked. “It wouldn’t have occurred to me.”

“Mhm! Tons.” Victor turned to look out over the water. “You should visit, in the off-season. I can show you around. It’s lovely in summer.”

“Won’t you be busy? Training, I mean,” Yuuri said.

Victor shrugged. “Not all the time. And I realized - I really enjoyed choreographing for Yurio. I can’t skate competitively forever, and I’d like to choreograph more for other people.” He looked at Yuuri, smiling. “Maybe I can choreograph you something, while you’re there.”

“That won’t be necessary.” The food churned in Yuuri’s stomach, and he shoved his trash into his pocket. “I don’t need anything choreographed for next season. I’m retiring.”

“What?” Victor’s eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open. “You can’t retire. Yuuri, you’re so good.”

“Not good enough.” Yuuri stood. “Besides, you should be choreographing for people like Yurio who are worth your time, who can do your programs justice. Not me.”

“Yuuri -” Victor stood too, reaching out to grasp his shoulders. “Yuuri, how can you say that? Of course you’re worth it!” Yuuri shook his head, and Victor’s grip tightened. “Yuuri,” he said in a low voice, leaning closer. “I don’t think you understand. I’ve told you I already locked down my programs for the rest of the season - what do you think they’re about?” Yuuri shook his head again. “They’re about _you_ , Yuuri.”

“I don’t understand.”

Victor didn’t look away. “Yuuri, the way I feel about you - it doesn’t happen to me. Ever. No, listen,” he said, as Yuuri scoffed. “You’ve been my fan for a while. How many serious relationships have I had?”

“None,” Yuuri had to admit.

“Right. And I’ve never felt the lack of it. I thought I _couldn’t_ \- but _you_ , Yuuri - you’re new. You’ve given me the inspiration, the motivation I’ve been lacking. You’ve made me want things, want to _say_ things, so how can you say you’re not worth it?”

He slid one hand up to cup Yuuri’s face, and Yuuri stepped back, shaking him off. “Do you -” Victor stopped. “Do you not feel the same way?”

Yuuri shook his head, heart pounding. “It’s not that. It’s not about how I _feel_. I can’t do it, and I can’t do - _this_ ,” he finished, waving a hand between the two of them. “Not now. I can’t think straight.”

“Then don’t decide now,” Victor said. He was standing very still, hands clenched as though he wanted to reach out to Yuuri again. “Don’t decide now,” he repeated. “Wait until you _can_ think straight.”

Yuuri hesitated. Victor was taking this harder than he’d anticipated, and it was testing his resolve not to be selfish. “After the Final’s over. We’ll decide then.”

“I’ve already decided,” Victor said. “I want you, Yuuri. You’re my decision.”

Yuuri shut his eyes. “Then, I’ll decide after the Final.”

Victor was quiet. Yuuri opened his eyes. Victor was facing the water, eyes closed, head down. “Alright,” he said, low.

Stomach knotted, Yuuri gave a jerky nod. “I should - I should head back, Minako’s probably wondering where I am.” He hesitated another moment, but Victor didn’t say anything, and Yuuri turned away.

He hadn’t actually expected Minako to be waiting for him, but she was in the room when he returned. “There you are,” Minako said, putting her laptop aside from where she had been bent over it. “I was wondering where you got to. Did you eat?”

Yuuri nodded. “I was with Victor. We got sandwiches.” He crossed to his suitcase and started rifling through it, looking for the jeans he had been wearing two days before. He found, balled up in a back pocket, the receipt from the jewelry store, and smoothed it out.

“What’s that?”

Yuuri looked up at her. “The receipt for this,” he said, holding up his right hand. “I think I’m going to return it.”

“What? I thought that was your pseudo-engagement good luck charm. Is Victor going to get you another one?”

Yuuri shook his head. “It clearly didn’t bring me much luck, and besides, that’s over now.” There were tears in his eyes, he discovered, and Minako got off her bed and crossed to his.

“What’s over now?” Minako asked. “You and Victor?”

“That, and my career. I’m retiring after the Final’s over. I just told him.”

“What?” Minako repeated, pulling on Yuuri’s shoulder until he met her gaze. “When did you decide this? When were you going to tell me?”

“I was going to tell you once it was over,” Yuuri said.

“And Victor just, what, _dumped_ you when he found out?”

Yuuri shook his head, rubbing the heel of his hand over his eyes. “He didn’t, I did. I thought you’d be pleased. He wants - he wants to choreograph for me, Minako, he wants to _be_ with me, and I can’t -” He let out a sob, and Minako pulled him in, tucking his head under her chin the way she’d done when he was a child. “It’s too much,” Yuuri managed after a minute. “I tried to do too much, and I let you down, and I’ll let _him_ down if I keep going, and I...”

“Shh,” Minako interrupted him. “Finish your cry and then we’ll keep talking.”

Yuuri dissolved, turning his face into her shoulder and weeping, and she stroked his hair and waited it out. Eventually his breathing evened out and he could sit up again, rubbing his face. “Sorry about your shirt,” he said, nodding to the wet spot.

“Damn the shirt. Let’s talk this out.” Minako moved to sit cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Yuuri copied her. “Now. First off, I think I owe you an apology.”

“No -” Yuuri started, stopping as she held up a hand.

“It’s true that I wasn’t especially pleased about Victor’s involvement in your training. I told you when we started that I wasn’t sure I was qualified, and that’s still the case. I let myself get territorial and insecure, and what’s worse, I let you see it. Neither of those things were okay. I apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong in accepting whatever help was offered to you, or in asking for more aid than I could give.”

“I should have told you,” Yuuri murmured.

She tilted her head to the side. “Maybe. But I didn’t exactly make it easy for you.” Yuuri couldn’t bite down a half-smile, and she went on. “Now, why do you think you’ve let me down?”

Yuuri shifted. “I couldn’t do what you asked. I was on top of the world yesterday, with Victor, with everything, and I still messed up my performance and flubbed the jump. And it was my own fault. I let myself get distracted by worrying about points, and I pushed the flip too hard to begin with and my body got confused.”

Minako let him finish. “Again, some of that comes on my head. And for the record, I was, and still am, far from disappointed with your score. You’ve done amazingly the whole Grand Prix Series, and I couldn’t be prouder of you.” Yuuri ducked his head and swallowed, and she waited until he got ahold of himself to say, “So, you haven’t let me down. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Yuuri managed a smile, which Minako returned.

“Now. Victor. Are you in love with him?”

Yuuri felt his face turn bright red, and he scratched the back of his neck. “I think so.”

“And is he in love with you?”

Yuuri let his hand drop from his neck, and rubbed his thumb over the ring, where Victor had pressed his kiss. “I think so.”

“What about the situation scares you so much?”

Yuuri scoffed. “That he’s _Victor Nikiforov_ , and I’m a nobody Japanese figure skater.”

Minako scoffed back. “You’re the _top_ Japanese figure skater, and you’re also lying. That’s not what scares you.”

“Then what’s scaring me?”

“I told you when we started, I’m not going to do all the work for you. You tell me.”

Yuuri let out a long breath. “I’m scared of it going wrong. Being friends with him is more than I ever could have dreamed of last year. I don’t want to get greedy and risk it.”

Minako shifted, straightening her spine a bit more. “The way I see it, this is the same dilemma you faced when you were deciding whether to move to America. There’s something you want, and you have to decide whether you want to try for it or not.” She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever you decide, you have my full support.”

“Thanks.” Yuuri watched as she let go and rolled off the bed. “We haven’t talked about the retirement thing yet.”

“That, I have to leave up to you and your judgement.” Minako stretched. “I sincerely hope you don’t retire, I think you’re far from the edge of your abilities, but I also know how much stress you go through during competitions. Again, whatever you decide, I’ll support you.” She slipped into her shoes. “I’m going to go for a walk, I think. Care to join me?”

Yuuri shook his head. “I’m all walked out for the day.”

“I’ll be back before dinner.” She waved and left, and Yuuri flopped back into his pillows, thumb still rubbing over his ring.

\--

_Grand Prix Final Men’s Free Skate, 2016_

Minako looked surprised when Yuuri headed out to watch Phichit skate live, but said nothing. He was already stretched and warmed up, and had turned off his playlist early to see the free skate he’d missed in China.

Phichit was in top form, his passion for the music coming through, and Yuuri couldn’t help but grin and clap along with the crowd. As Phichit hit his final pose, Yuuri turned to Minako. “Could you get Victor?”

Minako beamed, much brighter than Yuuri was expecting, and slipped away. Yuuri flashed Phichit a thumbs-up as he skated towards the kiss and cry, and stepped onto the ice alone. He rested his hands on the board and waited.

A gloved hand reached into his vision and slowly brushed against the back of his own. Yuuri looked up, and Victor gave him a tentative smile and covered Yuuri’s hand completely. “Minako said you needed me?” he said, almost too soft to be heard over the cheering for Phichit’s scores.

“I do,” Yuuri answered. Victor’s smile widened. “I made a decision.”

“You did?” Yuuri nodded. “Which - what did you decide?”

Yuuri pulled his hand back far enough to interlock his fingers with Victor’s and pressed their foreheads together. Victor gave a little gasp of surprise. “Don’t take your eyes off me,” Yuuri said, and then pulled away entirely.

 _My name is Katsuki Yuuri_. He pressed a kiss to his ring. _I’m a dime-a-dozen Japanese figure skater._ He slid into his starting pose. _I’m twenty-four_. The music started. _And for once, I’m going to be selfish._

He’d worked out the math after the Rostelecom Cup, working out what he would need to do to make his technical score equal to _Stammi Vicino_ without a quadruple Lutz in his arsenal. It had been idle speculation at the time, a way to distract himself from his impending retirement, but the elements were still firm in his memory.

 _Do I not feel the same?_ Yuuri thought as he skated. _How could I not feel the same? Victor is so much more than I ever would have thought possible._ The first two jumps were the same as they had always been, and he landed them both. _And I’ve become more than I ever would have thought possible, this season. I want to see what we can become together._

He could hear the commotion as he jumped a triple flip instead of a triple loop, and couldn’t help but smile to himself. _There’s the surprise you thrive on, Victor. How long will it take you to figure out what I’m doing?_

The music slowed and he slid into his choreographic sequence. _It would be easiest to give up now. I can take Victor’s love and give him mine, and leave the skating out of it._ The triple axel came and went. _But I want it all. I want to see what I can do with him at my side. And what he can do with me._

A quadruple toe loop, and then his three-part combination jump. _Do you get it yet, Victor? Do you know what I’m telling you? I don’t know if I’m going to keep skating after this, if I’m going to be entirely selfish, but no matter what, I need you to know what you’ve done for me up to now._

The last jump. A quadruple flip, landed more cleanly than any he’d ever landed in practice. _I don’t want this to be the end. I want it all. I just need to work up the courage to take it._

Yuuri’s breath was coming in huge pants as he lowered his hand after the music stopped, but he managed to suck in enough air to let loose the shout of triumph. That had been the best skate of his life, and he’d done it for Victor. For the two of them.

He made his bows and then looked around. Victor was waiting at the exit, one hand clenched on the boards. Without his glasses, Yuuri couldn’t quite make out his face until he was nearly in front of him; by that point, he only had a moment to take in the soft smile before he was falling backwards.

Their mouths separated as they hit the ice, Victor’s outstretched arm taking as much of the blow as he could manage, and Yuuri had to stop himself from leaning up to kiss him again. He could see the same urge in Victor’s eyes; instead, Victor bit his lip and said, “As if I could ever look away from you, Yuuri.”

“Really?”

Victor nodded, and they beamed at each other for another few moments, until the cold of the ice sunk into Yuuri’s back. “You have to let me up, Victor.” Victor shook his head, and Yuuri laughed, pushing on his shoulders. “I have to get my scores.”

“You get one million points,” Victor said, but relented, and they both stood. Minako was waiting with Yuuri’s blade covers by the kiss and cry, tear streaks on her face; she wrapped Yuuri in a hug after he put them on and said, “That was _beautiful_ , Yuuri. Victor told me what you were doing.”

He clung to her. “Thank you, Minako. Thank you for everything.” Once she released him, he reached out and took Victor’s hand, tugging him into the kiss and cry with them. “Come on.”

Victor winced as they sat, rubbing his hip. “Did you hurt yourself?” Yuuri asked, fingers still interlaced with Victor’s gloved hand.

“It hurt before, although the fall didn’t help.”

“Romantic, though,” Yuuri said, and Victor leaned into him, grinning.

“Romance is always worth it,” Minako said, from Yuuri’s other side, and then the scoreboard flashed to life.

Yuuri gaped at the numbers, visible even without his glasses, as Minako screamed and pulled him in for another hug. He looked to Victor as she released him. Smiling wryly, Victor held out his hand. Yuuri reached out to shake it, and Victor pulled him close. “Well done, Yuuri,” Victor said into his neck. “I told you your components were better than mine, didn’t I?”

\--

_Grand Prix Final Men’s Award Ceremony, 2016_

Yurio hadn’t said a word to him, between the end of his performance and now, but Yuuri couldn’t blame him. His face was still red and blotchy, and it seemed like it was taking all his concentration just to stay on his feet and hold his medal up for the photographs. On his other side, JJ was giving the cameras a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. Yuuri himself couldn’t be as ecstatic as he would have expected. He had a world record, and he had Victor, but still, _twelve hundredths of a point._ It rankled.

Victor was waiting for him at the end of the ceremony, blade covers in hand. “Silver, eh?” Yuuri said, putting them on and stepping off the ice. “Not too shabby.”

“It’s not gold.” Victor gave him a cheeky grin.

Yuuri felt a swoop in his stomach. No, it wasn’t gold, and he’d been _so close_. “Guess you’ll have to choreograph me something even better for next season,” he said, and turned to look for Minako.

Arms reached around him from behind, wrapping around his chest and pulling him in. “Do you mean it?” Victor sounded oddly breathless. “You’re not retiring?”

Yuuri nodded, his cheek rubbing against Victor’s, and then Victor spun him around and kissed him again, lifting him off his feet this time. “I’m going to choreograph you the _best_ programs,” Victor said as he set Yuuri down again. “You’re going to have both world records by the time I’m done with you.”

“You’re not going to try and take them back?”

Victor frowned, tapping his finger against his lips. “Good point. I’ll take them back next season, and you can have them the season after that.”

Yuuri laughed at him. “Yurio might have something to say about that.”

“Let him try.” Victor lifted Yuuri’s hand to his mouth and kissed the ring again. “We’ll be unstoppable together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please [come cry with me](http://thewalrus-said.tumblr.com) about this show, I am emotionally compromised all the time about it.


End file.
